


This Is What Love Feels Like

by shuppet44



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angsty fluff smut?, Blow Jobs, Child Abuse, Confessions of love, Crying During Sex, Is that a thing, M/M, Mentions of rough sex, Promiscuity, Sexual Abuse, The abuse is the central feature but its not graphically described at all, Viktor's past, Yuuri comforts viktor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 19:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9252674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuppet44/pseuds/shuppet44
Summary: At age 13, Viktor was abused by his coach, Gleb. 14 years later, he is still making himself feel the pain of that 'love' every day. That is, until Yuuri sets him straight and shows him what love really feels like.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! So, this is a bit different from my usual stories. This one contains past child/sexual abuse and rape, although none of it is graphically depicted or descripted, its more of something to infer based off the details. But it is the central theme of the story so if anything of that sort bothers you i dont recomend reading this. But otherwise, i hope you all enjoy, if i portrayed anything offensivly or incorrect, please, please let me know so i can fix it! The last thing i want is to offend anyone with this story, so dont be scared to (nicely) call me out on it! Also, this story is purely based off the idea yoichisaohomo (on tumblr) told me about and i asked her if it was okay to used for a Viktuuri story (she had it for another ship) and she said yes! It was such a good idea i was so happy to be allowed to use it!

No one ever said his career would be easy. Viktor always knew it would be a struggle, that he would have to fight for every single medal that came his way and that, despite his natural talent, there would be setbacks. In his junior years, when he was just starting to compete in real competitions, it was exhilarating to glide across the ice with an audience around him, to pull gasps from everyone, even his competitors, when he landed a particularly difficult jump that few his age had ever done in competition. 

His coach, a younger Russian man that, despite the reputation the seceded him, seemed great by all of Viktor's standards. He helped him with all the new jumps and spins he was learning, braided his hair before practices, gently lead Viktor through every program choreographed just for him. His coach, Gleb as he had Viktor call him, even dropped his other students to focus solely on Viktor.

Every touch during practice was simple, meaningful, Viktor never noticed the way they lingered a little too long. He just assumed that Gleb was working to correct his form, always trying to make his programs perfect. After all, Viktor was all but 13, not that far from his senior debut but none the less naive about the ways of the world, the good and the bad. He caught a glimpse of it, though, one day when Gleb's hands lingered over his ass during a parting hug before leaving practice for the day. Viktor said nothing, sure that it was a slip up of some sort or just another means of affection, of love. 

That's exactly what he thought the next time, when Gleb's touch moved down his front, lower and lower til Viktor wasn't sure what the hell was going on, or _why_. All he knew was that it made Gleb happy, made him even more enthusiastic when coaching Viktor, helping him create magnificent programs that continued to wow the whole of Russia and beyond. Every time it happened, after practice in locker rooms, before competitions, whenever Gleb asked of it, Viktor let the older man do as he wanted. He didn't truly understand it, believing Gleb when he said it was a measure of his love, that the lingering pain that had him limping days later was just to make him better. 

Of course he believed it, Viktor had no one else to tell him otherwise, just assuming that it was love and that was that. Gleb always assured him that his age meant nothing, especially in the world of skating, when juniors like him could be even more spectacular than well-seasoned seniors on the ice. 

One day, Viktor was at a competition, waiting in the wings for his name to be called. It was the biggest competition he had been in yet, the junior Worlds, and he was already a crowd favorite after his short program the day before. Gleb had insisted on celebrating in his hotel room that night, proving his love over and over even as tears ran down Viktor's cheeks from the pain. His coach was getting more demanding by the day and not just with his programs, no, Gleb was demanding Viktor meet with him nightly now, barely letting him recover before putting him through ruthless practice the next day. 

A competitor picked up on his heavy limp, asking him what had happened, had he injured himself during the public practice? Viktor just muttered an answer, avoiding any sort contact with the others as he listened to the music from the current program and the crowd's cheers. Stabbing pain went from his legs all the way up his spine despite the pain meds that Gleb had practically forced down his throat that morning.

“Viktor, are you okay? Are you sure you're alright to skate like this?” 

“I'm fine, I'm fine, really. Just focus on your own routine, you'll need to if you want to beat me.” He smiled fakely, biting his lip as more pain went through him. It was clear that his fellow competitor didn't believe a word Viktor said, despite his cheery face, but said nothing, simply finishing his warm up on the other side of the room. Viktor waited til the room was clear before doing his own warmups alone, he was grateful that Gleb wasn't here, he got handsy during his warmups much of the time and Viktor just wasn't up for it in that moment. 

Before long it was his turn on the ice and he glided out in a sparkling costume, tailored perfectly to his every feminine curve, even more accentuated by his long, flowing hair. It was unusual for him to leave it down for his programs, it got in the way of his sight and had led to a few near misses with the wall during his jumps. But Viktor had no desire for Gleb's hands on him, love or not, he was just so _tired_. The music began to play and Viktor's well-practiced dance across the ice was in motion. His movements, though, were nowhere near as clean as they should have been, the pain in his hips jarring him as he prepared for his first jump, a triple flip. It went off more or less proper, a bit of a messy landing but he stayed up, earning cheers from the crowd as he pressed onward.

His next few jumps went a little better than before, nice clean landings that set him up for his step sequence. It was a bit jerky, a bit uncoordinated as more pain went through him. Viktor's jumps had made it even worse, bringing tears to his eyes as he settled into a quick spin. His long hair whipped around, stinging his cheeks as he moved upwards and did a quick lap around the rink, a bit out of step with the music. Viktor briefly caught the glance of the skater who had spoken to him before, as well as his coach. 

Gleb, of course, was there as well, although it was obvious he was a little tipsy with both power and whatever the hotel minibar was stocking. Viktor ignored it, though, used to the feeling of eyes on him by now. He prepared for his final jump, the most difficult one in his program that he was yet to put into competition. Viktor lined himself up with an ad and gathered speed before leaping into the air, a quad Salchow. He could feel that he had messed up within milliseconds, long hair blinding him as he spun through the stillness. 

The landing was botched, barely catching the ice with his toe before stumbling forward. Viktor didn't even bother to put his hands out in front of him, slamming hard into the retaining wall. Pain flooded from his nose and forehead where it had connected, blood dripping into his mouth and staining his vision red. Viktor didn't get up at first, despite the shouts of the crowd and from his coach, letting the medics lift him onto a stretcher and whisk him off for stitches and a look over. Gleb followed, of course, feigning worry as Viktor was rushed to the medical area. Not far behind him was the coach of the boy who had talked to him before, face lined with concern. 

While one medic fussed over him, plugging his dripping nose, another was pulled aside by the other coach and the whispering began. Viktor paid no mind to any of it, letting himself drift in and out of his own mind for a while. He was exhausted, embarrassed, so many other emotions that he didn't know how to place, hardly feeling as three stitches were sewn into his hairline. The silverette didn't even notice he was crying, hair fanned out around him in long, silky tendrils. 

“Vitanka, are you alright? Don't worry, we'll have plenty of time to recover from this loss by next season.” Gleb smiled brightly and placed a hand on Viktor's arm, making him shiver and jump away. That caught the attention of the other medic, who was still talking with the female coach. 

“Sir, we're going to have to ask you to leave, Viktor needs to be alone to recover right now.” She said forcefully, ushering Gleb out of the room. The older man went pale as paper when he saw the look in the medic's eyes, rushing out quickly. Viktor said nothing, feeling as though a weight was off his shoulders. The medic sat at the foot of his bed and talked to him slowly, calmly asking what Gleb had done to him in perfect Russian. Viktor refused to talk at first, tears slipping down his cheeks. Gleb was all he had, the only one who loved him. Even if it hurt, it was love, Gleb was giving him all the love in the world. Finally, Viktor spoke up, tugging at the sheets under him. 

“He loved me.” Was all he said, clamping his lips shut before the sobs could get out. The medic left silently, along with the other coach, leaving Viktor alone. The silence fell over him like a blanket, setting him at edge but also helping him let go. Viktor let go of the pain, of the false words he had believed for over a year, he let go of himself. Wincing, tears streaking down his face, Viktor limped over to some medical supplies, digging around til he found a sharp pair of scissors. For a moment he contemplated using them on himself, cut out his aching heart and let it fall to the floor, bloody and still beating, giving him the life he didn't want. But instead, he raised the shears to his hair, the long silver strands that were often the hallmark of his appearance. 

Tears streamed from his eyes even as they were squeezed shut tightly, the first snip echoing through the room. The thin sound of metal against metal filled his ears as he cut and cut, feeling the heavy weight of his hair leave his head and, he hoped, the weight of Gleb's burden on him. It was almost exhilarating, changing himself with nothing more than scissors, distorting his image till no one recognized who he was, just as Viktor didn't know who he was himself. Before long the floor was covered in feet of hair and Viktor no longer looked like the sweet, effeminate boy that Gleb had used and thrown away despite the 'love' he professed. The cut was choppy, high above his shoulders with sharp bangs over one eye. Viktor glanced at himself in a mirror, eyes puffy and red, cheeks stained with the trails of his tears, there was still some blood from his nose, the tissues having fallen out during his impromptu haircut. 

He looked nothing like the polished skater Gleb had turned him into and Viktor loved it. By the time the medics returned, armed with a few police officials, Viktor was sitting on the floor, running his fingers over the hair he had shorn off without regret, holding a handful of it in one hand. 

“Boy, are you ready to tell us what happened to you?” One police officer, older than the others, knelt down to Viktor's small height, offering a hand. Viktor, smiling as a fresh wave of tears cascaded down his red cheeks, just shook his head and tossed his new bangs out of his face. 

“It's over now.”

It was rumored that Gleb took the first plane out of Russia that day to America, knowing he wouldn't be found again, much the less prosecuted for the abuse he put Viktor through. Despite his guardian's urges, Viktor never said anything to the authorities, simply repeating himself that it was over, it was done. The officer who had spoken to him, a kind man, introduced him to his brother. Yakov was a ruthless figure skating coach who liked to yell and demanded perfection, but Viktor took a liking to him, seeing him as the father figure he had never had. 

The women who watched over him was kind and did good on her job of keeping him clothed and fed, but she was no parent. Yakov knew the story behind Viktor's past, his season off as he recovered from the shock of Gleb's disappearance, healing the hole in his battered heart. The older man didn't let up on him, though, working him over every practice to regain the strength he had lost during his time off, preparing him for his return to the ice and his senior debut.

The two argued more than a few times about what Viktor did in his free time, though, especially as he grew older and was able to get into worse trouble. The silverette had a habit of sleeping with whoever he found that was willing and it was no secret, Viktor became known for his one night stands over more than four continents by the time he was twenty. Viktor just scoffed when Yakov scolded him, insisting he knew what he was doing, he was just blowing off steam, whatever excuse he needed to get his coach off his back. 

Even after so many years, Viktor had never truly recovered from what Gleb had done, finding sex to be the vice that helped him control the pain inside him. Just like with Gleb, he viewed the pain as love, what he craved most. Every night that he found someone new to play with, the pain in the morning made him feel loved, even if only for a short time. It was all Viktor knew, the pain of this 'love' and he lived to find it again and again. 

Something changed inside him, though, at the banquet of his fifth Grand Prix win. He saw Yuuri, drunk and stumbling and most definitely not sure of what he was doing as he hugged Viktor, grinding against his thigh and begging the Russian man to be his coach. Normally, Viktor would have jumped all over the opportunity for an easy lay with someone new, would have easily seduced the drunken boy into fucking him til he cried, but Viktor couldn't. Not with Yuuri, despite the younger man's obvious attraction to him, despite the way he draped himself all over Viktor as he helped him to his hotel room before things could get even more out of hand. 

Yuuri, unsurprisingly, passed out the minute he was put into bed, snoring softly with a silly smile on his face. Viktor sat at the edge of the bed for a moment, heart pounding as he watched Yuuri's breathing, soft and even. But when the ravenette shifted Viktor tore out of the room, leaving Yuuri to sleep off his champagne. Viktor tried his best to forget Yuuri, forget the way he made his heart jump and skip, forget the way he had almost begged Viktor to coach him in his drunken state. He buried himself in sex and practice, most nights spent in beds that were not his own and showing up late to practice often. 

Yakov was not amused but decided there was no point in yelling at Viktor, nothing ever seemed to get through to him. But there was an obvious shift in his skating at Worlds that year, something much softer than the crowd had seen from Viktor since he was young. In yet another irrational decision, Viktor flew to Japan a few months afterward, having seen the video of Yuuri skating his free skate from Worlds. The younger man made a few technical errors in the program, sure, but watching him, dark floating behind him as he spun and danced on the ice, made Viktor feel... _something_. Something he had forgotten how to feel, how to name, but something beautiful. Viktor went in search of that feeling, becoming Yuuri's coach and working him just as hard as Yakov had worked him. 

The first few months were the hardest, after Yurio's defeat in Hot Springs On Ice, Viktor found it hard to concentrate. Maybe it was seeing Yuuri and his Eros, maybe it was just the longtime habit of sleeping with anyone who would have him, but he _needed_. He _needed_ to feel that love that sex gave him, _needed_ to feel the pain of being fucked ruthlessly and forcing himself to swallow the sobs as they tried to escape him. So one weekend, not long before Yuuri's first real competition with Viktor coaching him, he fell off the proverbial wagon. 

Viktor disappeared for three days, never picking up his phone even as Yuuri called over and over, worried sick. Yuuri, ever observant, knew that something was going on with Viktor. He knew the stories, the gossip, had seen the scandalous article estimating the amount of people Viktor had slept with. But to him, it was confusing, Yuuri figured there had to be a reason to it more than just the need for pleasure. So, in a fit of worry, he found the number of Viktor's former coach, trying his best to explain in what little Russian he knew that Viktor had gone off and Yuuri was nervous. Finally, Yakov gave up on understanding Yuuri's messy, broken Russian and handed the phone to Yurio as a translator. The young punk wasn't happy to hear about Viktor going about his old ways, repeating Yakov's words to Yuuri in brisk English.

“This isn't all that unusual for him, he sees it as love to sleep around. I don't know if you've heard, but he was abused as a child, the man who did it always told him he was showing his love. So the idiot goes around asking to get fucked so he can feel what he thinks is love. I thought he was doing better after moving over there, but I guess he snapped or some shit.” Yurio sighed, running a hand through his hair. Even he was worried about Viktor, despite his annoyance toward the older man, Yurio knew he had been through something terrible and it wasn't his fault that he understood love even worse than the blonde did. 

“Listen, piggy, bring him back. He won't have gone far, he's probably still in town at whatever fancy hotel you have. Check there first, he's probably sleeping there until he finds his next fuck. Just... get him home safe, got it?” Yuuri nodded, wiping his eyes before his tears could fall. He hung up, setting his phone on the bed and balling his hands into fists. So that was why Viktor did what he did... of all the things possible, Yuuri had never expected that. He hadn't been exposed to the media at the time of the scandal, had never heard about Viktor's past, the silverette never once brought it up. 

To think that Viktor, beautiful, strong, amazing Viktor, had gone through such a trauma, well, everything made a lot more sense then. Taking a deep breath, Yuuri got cleaned up and took a train to the city, finding the nicest hotel he could and asking the desk worker if they had seen Viktor. In the end, Yuuri had to bribe him for the room number and a spare key, but he hardly cared. Yuuri just wanted to find Viktor and make sure he was okay. During the long elevator ride (of course Viktor had gotten a room on the top floor) Yuuri tried to decide what to say. 

Should he bring up what Yurio had told him? Confess his feelings? Say nothing? He didn't know what to do, fingers shaking as he used the key to open the room he had been told with Viktor's. Sure enough, the Russian was sitting on the bed, staring blankly at his phone with nothing but a thin robe covering his form. He looked up when the door open, face void of expression as Yuuri made his way inside and shut the door. 

“So you found me?” 

“Yurio told me to check here, he told me this has happened before and what you had been through. Why didn't you tell me, Viktor, maybe I could have helped?” Viktor sighed, he had had this talk before and it was pointless to him. He couldn't be helped, he was a loveless shell of the boy who once was, destroyed by his own naivety. 

“There was no reason to burden you with what happened when I was a kid, it's over now, I'm fine.” 

“You aren't fine, not if you feel like you have to disappear for three days to have sex with random people just to feel loved.” Yuuri was tearing up now, standing hunched with his hands fisting his pants. Viktor stood, setting a hand on Yuuri's shoulder in comfort. 

“It is love, the pain of being hurt that way is how they show me love. It always has been for me.” Yuuri looked up, almost looking angry with Viktor. The younger man was upset to hear Viktor say it out loud, how in the hell could pain like that be love?! It tore him up to see Viktor like this, throwing himself at the first person who would fuck him and thinking that if it hurt, it was right. With a frustrated cry, Yuuri smashed his lips against Viktor's, pulling a squeak from the Russian. Yuuri pulled back quickly, bright red and panting but looking a bit smug. 

“Pain isn't love, Viktor, no matter who says it is.” 

“You're lying, just like everyone does. I know what I feel when I wake up with aching hips just like I used to, I know that when they make me cry, I know that they love me even without knowing my name.” Viktor said quietly, turning around and making his way back to the bed. 

“T-then what if I show you? What if I show what it's really like to make love, to be loved.” Viktor paused in his tracks, shocked to hear shy, innocent Yuuri virtually offer himself on a platter to Viktor.  
When a hand touched his arm, ever gentle, Viktor shivered and let himself be led to the pillows, laying on his back with Yuuri nervously hovering above him. 

“I'm surprised to see my little Yuuri act this way, you really do have Eros, just like I thought.” 

“That's not what this is about, Viktor, it's not me trying to prove my Eros to you, just my point. I love you, Viktor.” Yuuri's voice trembled over every syllable, a few tears dripping down his cheeks as he waited to see how Viktor would react. The silverette didn't say anything, just plucked Yuuri's glasses from his face and giving him a nod, a signal to have his way with Viktor. Yuuri wiped his eyes, vision blurry but not to the point he couldn't see Viktor or register the faint smile on his lips. He leaned down and kissed Viktor sweetly, gentle and uncertain. Viktor returned the kiss, reaching up to try and tug off Yuuri's shirt. But his hands were grabbed and returned to the bed, fingers weaving with Viktor's own. 

“I've got you, just let me lead, lay back and relax. I've never done this before, but I know what to do, I won't hurt you.” Viktor laughed softly, letting his head fall to the side. 

“What if I wanted you to? You love me, right? Don't you want to show me?” 

“I told you, pain isn't love, pain just hurts. Just let me show you what love really is, alright? Give it a chance.” Yuuri's tone had a sharp edge of determination to it, fully prepared to use any means necessary to get his point across. Viktor just nodded, he knew there was no use in arguing with Yuuri when he wanted something this strongly. Yuuri pressed his lips back to Viktor's, slowly deepening the kiss with tilts of his head and the occasional flicker of his tongue against Viktor's bottom lip. 

Viktor found the change of pace to be interesting, normally by now he would be on his hands and knees, clothes ripped open and waiting for the all-consuming pain of being filled by some strangers dick. But right now it was all soft kisses and light touches to his chest, Yuuri's little moans floating through the silence. And Viktor started to like it, liked the sense of calm that came from Yuuri's mouth on his own, thin fingers exploring him over the robe. Finally, Yuuri took it a step further, lapping at Viktor's lips experimentally, asking for permission. That was definitely new, most of the men Viktor shacked up with didn't take the time to ask him anything more than his name on occasion, much the less if they kiss him more passionately. 

With a soft smile, Viktor opened his mouth, welcoming Yuuri in as the younger man shyly licked his way inside. Yuuri took his time charting every inch of Viktor's mouth, tasting him and basking in the simple pleasure that came from having Viktor under him, accepting his kiss happily. Viktor was shocked by how much Yuuri's unintentional teasing turned him on, he had never experienced such a gentle kiss before. But now he couldn't get enough, having to hold back a whimper when Yuuri pulled back to catch his breath. Yuuri's round cheeks were stained a beautiful shade of pink that Viktor found himself wanting to remember for a long time, drinking in the sight of the Japanese man panting above him. 

“Are you enjoying it? I-I mean, how is it?” 

“For a virgin, you kiss well. Different from what I'm used to, but not bad.” Yuuri seemed to light up at the praise, feeling as though he was beginning to get through to Viktor. As he recovered and tried to plan his next move, Viktor's hands wandered to the front of Yuuri's pants where a slight bulge was resting, palming and squeezing it with a smirk. 

“You know you don't have to hold back, you can fuck me now and skip all this.” 

“I don't want to, though, Viktor, not yet. Just trust me, alright?” Yuuri, biting his lip to keep his moans contained, pulled Viktor's hands away and set them back on the bed just as he had done before. He moved to kiss Viktor's jaw, soft presses of his swollen lips with no other intention besides loving Viktor. The Russian man tilted his head, giving Yuuri the room he wanted, letting his eyes fall shut. He still couldn't get over the contrast between Yuuri and every other experience he had had in bed. Where others had been rude and quick to order him around, Yuuri was easing him into every new action, letting him enjoy the pleasure provided from those cute little lips that Viktor had found himself staring at more than once. 

At the time he attributed it to finding Yuuri attractive and nothing more than that, but now he knew just how soft his mouth was, how good it felt kissing down his neck slowly, sucking ever so lightly at Viktor's pulse where it fluttered under his skin. Something shifted inside the silverette, tugging at emotions, but Viktor shoved it away, burying it far back into his mind just like he did the hurt and sadness he had felt for the past fourteen years. Instead, he focused on Yuuri, where his mouth was, the way his hands were shakily opening the top of Viktor's robe to expose his pale chest. 

Yuuri's kisses wandered lower, exploring the planes and sharp edges of collarbone, lingering long over his heart. Viktor shivered at that, he wasn't used to anyone paying such close attention to such a simple piece of him. It was almost like Yuuri was listening to his heartbeat, faster than normal as Viktor felt a blush crawl up his neck. Yuuri said nothing, though, giving the spot another quick kiss before moving even lower. Viktor's breath hitched when Yuuri's tongue rolled over one nipple, Yuuri catching on quickly that they were quite sensitive. He licked and sucked at one while his fingers played with the other, rolling and tugging it gently. 

Viktor tried to urge Yuuri on to just fuck him but his words were caught behind a soft moan. Yuuri's cheeks went pink when he heard it, proud of eliciting such a noise from Viktor with just his mouth and fingers. As much as Viktor tried to, it was very hard to deny the effect Yuuri was having on him. He could shove his thoughts and feelings to the back of his mind as much as he wanted but it was impossible to ignore the fact he was _hard_. Viktor was so damn hard under Yuuri, it ached and twitched without being touched. The Russian couldn't remember the last time he had been this hard, especially from just foreplay like this. He ground up against the swell of Yuuri's ass lightly and moaned, it felt amazing. Yuuri had switched sides now, nipping at his sensitive flesh and leaving a few teeth marks before going back to kitten licks and light sucking. 

Viktor's body shook faintly with arousal, glad he was laying down and Yuuri likely wouldn't notice. It got stronger when Yuuri pulled open the terry cloth robe, exposing him in all his glory to the chilly air. Yuuri found himself staring at Viktor's cock, startlingly large with beads of precum forming at the tip. His mouth watered and he took a deep breath, smiling down at Viktor. 

“You're beautiful, you know. Not just your body, either, but all of you. Your so breathtaking, Viktor...” Yuuri almost purred, settling down on his stomach between Viktor's legs, spreading them gently. Viktor found himself blushing, he could count on one hand how many times he had been on the receiving end of a blowjob, ninety percent of the time it was him with his lips stretched wide, drool running down his chin as he was brutally face fucked till the force of it nearly made him sick. He watched Yuuri with wide sapphire eyes as the inexperienced man began to nervously kiss at Viktor's thick thighs, heavily muscled from skating. 

Viktor let one hand fall to Yuuri's soft hair as his kisses went higher, dangerously close to his aching cock but not quite there yet. He didn't pull, though, just stroking his fingers through the inky strands. Yuuri made a soft noise of approval, glancing up at Viktor nervously and finding solace in those calm blue pools. That was all Yuuri needed to take the plunge, wrapping his lips around the head of Viktor's cock and sucking slowly.

It was a matter of experimenting to see what pulled hoarse, broken moans from Viktor as well as how much Yuuri could take before having to pull back. He moved slowly, suckling at the tip while his hand stroked what remained, moaning at the salty, simple taste of Viktor's precum before taking in a little more. It went like this for a while, Viktor holding back throaty moans and mewls as inch after inch disappeared into Yuuri's hot, wet mouth. Finally, Yuuri was taking in all of Viktor's length, learning he had almost no gag reflex as he held Viktor in his mouth. He had to pull back, though, not sure of how to breathe and suck at the same time. A second attempt proved much better, Yuuri bobbing his head over Viktor's length with increasing speed as the silverette's fingers tightened in his hair, although still not tugging on it like Yuuri had anticipated. 

“F-fuck, oh fuck, Yuuri...” Viktor muttered, the first time he had spoken it what felt like hours. Yuuri felt a sense of pride for making Viktor's voice so shaky and needy, pulling back to suck along the shaft while a finger rubbed at Viktor's slit, a little trick he had picked up from a porno once. Viktor keened softly, surprising them both as the Russian had never heard himself make a noise quite that pleasured before. But Yuuri took it all in stride, bobbing his head a few more times before pulling back completely. He was completely debauched, lips slightly parted and shiny, still connected to Viktor by a thin string of precum that broke soon after. 

Viktor couldn't look away, panting hard with the faintest of smiles on his face. He had been so close to the edge too, not that he had said anything, he had never been that close that soon before. But Yuuri seemed to pick up on every little change in Viktor's body, not wanting it to end quite yet. Yuuri stood up, hard cock tenting his pants very visibly, much to Viktor's silent delight. He shuffled around, finally finding a bottle of lube in the bottom drawer of the bedside table. Viktor knew what was coming next, a brutal fucking that would leave him sore for at least a day. But surprisingly, Yuuri was dribbling the click fluid onto his fingers, warming it between the digits before settling on his knees between Viktor's legs, using his clean hand to wedge a pillow under the silverette's ass. 

“Is it okay if I finger you now?” Yuuri asked softly, rubbing Viktor's thigh slowly. Viktor was more than surprised to hear that, Yuuri had done nothing as he expected. There had been no pain, no rush, no desperate need for anything more, if Yuuri had simply pulled away right then and said he was finished, Viktor wouldn't have been surprised if he didn't care one bit, satisfied already. But he just bit his lip and nodded, head falling to the side with eyes squeezed shut, prepared for the worst. Yuuri's slick fingers danced over his entrance, rubbing it with a single digit to get it wet and relaxed. At least Yuuri somewhat had experience in this respect, he had fingered himself more than once and knew exactly what felt good, how to move, what spots to look for. 

Viktor was tense as the first finger pressed inside but immediately relaxed when there was no pain at all, just the familiar feeling of being filled, albeit by something much slimmer than a cock but none the less making something blossom low in his stomach. A soft whimper left him as Yuuri pressed deeper until his finger was completely engulfed by Viktor's ass, the younger male staying completely still for a few moments. He was stunned by how warm and soft Viktor's insides were, squeezing lightly around the digit. Viktor clearly didn't need any time to adjust as he rolled his hips, trying to get Yuuri deeper, so he began to thrust his finger in and out slowly. Yuuri didn't want to overwhelm Viktor with too much too soon, so he built speed slowly Viktor was whining in Russian, likely wanting more going on the way his cock twitched and dripped. It looked like Viktor had given in to the pleasure now, hair haloed around him as his chest heaved with the effort to keep as quiet as he could.

“You can moan, you know, you don't have to stay so silent,” Yuuri muttered, earning a tiny sigh from Viktor as he released his swollen bottom lip from between his teeth. Yuuri smiled softly, taking hold of Viktor's length as he ever so slowly added a second finger to his hole. It was more of a stretch this time, the faintest sparks of pain making their way up Viktor's spine but they were more than masked by the incredible pleasure Yuuri's hand provided. Viktor was still quiet, more for himself than anything else, he still didn't want to admit how much he was enjoying this, how much better this felt than his past experiences. But every so often, when Yuuri's fingers would brush past a sensitive spot or curl inside him, Viktor would moan shamelessly. He always looked away after, refusing to keep eye contact with Yuuri for fear of getting louder or, worse, letting his growing feelings show. 

The emotions were building inside him like a shaken soda that Viktor was trying so hard to keep the lid closed on, but it was inevitable that it would burst at some point. Viktor was determined to keep it in til Yuuri was gone, though, no point in losing control now when Yuuri's fingers were pressed against that one spot that had his legs trembling. Yuuri quietly thought to himself that Viktor probably hadn't had his prostate hit much during sex, he wanted to milk the spot a little, make Viktor feel amazing. It was definitely working, Viktor's cock leaking right into his hand, back arching off the bed every now and then. But Yuuri knew he needed to move on, leaning down to bob his head on Viktor's length as he slipped his fingers from his hole. 

No sooner had Viktor whined at the emptiness was he being filled again, this time with three fingers. This time he felt some pain but nowhere near enough to make him cry, especially with Yuuri's sweet mouth around him, sucking relentlessly. In fact, Viktor didn't even notice that Yuuri had stopped moving the digits til he _started_ moving, pulling a very loud moan from the Russian. Yuuri didn't stop, providing Viktor with white hot pleasure that spread all the way down to his toes. Three fingers were amazing, hitting all his sweet spots, stretching him amazingly. Viktor panted and moaned, bucking his hips into Yuuri's mouth with a cry. 

Yuuri hummed around Viktor's cock, speeding up his fingers and drilling them against Viktor's prostate, curling them against the nerve. Viktor's moans grew high pitched and frequent, cock twitching in Yuuri's mouth. But before he could cum, Yuuri pulled back once again, slipping his fingers out one by one. 

“W-why...?” Viktor asked breathlessly, tempted to touch himself to get off, he was that desperate in the moment. Yuuri leaned up and kissed Viktor gently, letting little moans slip into the silverette's mouth. Viktor made a soft noise that was borderline begging, rutting up against Yuuri's own hardness to get his point across. Yuuri moaned, he wanted Viktor, wanted him badly, but he still kissed him slowly, moving to caress his hips, his thighs, everywhere. Yuuri's touch was _everywhere_ and where it wasn't it still lingered, burning hot and needy. 

“Yuuri~” Viktor whimpered, tugging at his shirt. Yuuri pulled back and quickly stripped, shying away from Viktor's gaze as it scanned his form. 

“Not bad, Yuuri,” Viktor smirked, eyes falling on Yuuri's dripping hard length. Yuuri blushed, fighting the urge to cover himself as he moved back on top of Viktor slowly, moaning loudly when their cocks slid against each other. Viktor rutted against him, moaning softly and meeting Yuuri's gaze with big blue eyes. Yuuri nodded silently, taking the lube and slicking his length with long, slow strokes of his hand. He pulled back before he got lost in the pleasure, though, and rubbed a little more lube at Viktor's entrance, getting it good and wet before pressing the tip of his cock against Viktor's hole. 

“Viktor, are you sure about this? Is this okay?” Yuuri asked, splaying one hand over Viktor's heart and feeling the steady, quick beat under his skin. Viktor nodded, shifting his hips so that Yuuri's cock slid against the wrinkled flesh and they both moaned softly. With a kiss to Viktor's forehead and a hand on his cock, stroking slowly as he pressed inside. What Viktor had expected was burning pain, enough to bring him to tears, swallowing sobs as they fought their way out of him. But this was nothing like that. Nothing hurt, not even the slightest bit as Yuuri buried himself inside him, the Japanese skater moaning above him. But Viktor hardly noticed Yuuri in that moment, so shocked by the sensations going through him. 

“Tell me when to move, Vitya, take your time,” Viktor said nothing, just laid there as his emotions finally broke free of the dam he had been building for over a decade. The first tear slipped down Viktor's cheek, his eyes wide. Yuuri paused, worried that he had hurt Viktor or done something he shouldn't have. But before he could ask, Viktor broke out into loud, body-shaking sobs. Yuuri scrambled to pull out of Viktor carefully, scooping the Russian into his arms and hugging him tightly. 

“I'm sorry if I hurt you, Viktor, so sorry.” 

“N-no, that's not... i-it didn't hurt, i-i... i-i...” He cried harder, letting out all the tears he had been holding inside for so long, all the feelings he had for Yuuri, all the hatred he harbored. 

“Shh, Vitya, it's okay, your okay. I've got you, baby, your safe, just let it out.” Yuuri whispered, pulling Viktor to his chest and rubbing his back, pressing soft kisses to his hair. He hadn't quite expected Viktor to break like this, sobbing in his arms. It wasn't quiet, it wasn't pretty, Viktor's cries were heartbreaking, entire body shaking with the force of it as he collapsed into Yuuri. Occasionally a word of Russian would be stuttered out, muffled against Yuuri's skin through the tears. Yuuri leaned close to Viktor's ear, whispering his love for him over and over, reassuring him that he was okay. 

Viktor just cried, cried until he thought he couldn't anymore and then cried some more. All the pain tumbled out of him like a broken faucet, he couldn't turn it off. He regretted everything, all the one night stands, all the random men who had hurt him, all the pain he forced himself to go through, thinking it was love. But that wasn't love, it was a lie, it was all a lie that Viktor had believed for so long. What he felt right now, being cradled in Yuuri's arms, that was love. That was Yuuri's love for him, pure and simple and it had his heart jumping. Viktor loved Yuuri, loved him hard, loved the way he took care of him and spoke to him and made sure he was safe when he was so damn vulnerable. Naked and crying in a hotel room, that was about as vulnerable as it got, but Yuuri didn't take advantage of that. 

He pulled up the blanket to cover them both, wrapping it around Viktor's shaking shoulders. Viktor's sobs had slowed a little, wrapping his arms around Yuuri and resting against his chest, tiny whimpers leaving his throat. Yuuri cooed softly, finding Viktor's hand and weaving their fingers together. Viktor hiccuped, wiping his eyes and sitting up a little, shyly meeting Yuuri's eyes. 

“I-I'm sorry...” He muttered, a few more tears slipping down his cheeks. 

“No no, Vitya, you have nothing to apologize for. You didn't do anything wrong, you just went looking for what you thought was love. You were lied to, it wasn't your fault, none of it was.” Yuuri cupped Viktor's face, thumbing away every tear as it escaped him. It broke his heart to see Viktor crying this way, so hurt from everything he had gone through over the years. 

“I-i've... I've made so many mistakes... all those guys, they never...” 

“Shhh, it's okay baby, its okay. You thought they did, you were taught to think that pain was love. But it's not, you know that now. I love you, Viktor, I love you so much. I would never hurt you, I'll always be here when you need me, that's a promise.” Yuuri leaned in and met Viktor in a kiss, soft and tender. It sent Viktor back into tears, although he didn't pull away, wrapping his arms around Yuuri's neck to pull him closer. He whimpered, clambering into Yuuri's lap as the kiss turned hungry. Before Viktor could deepen it, Yuuri pulled back, smiling softly. 

“Are y-” Viktor shushed Yuuri with a finger to his lips, eyes softening and a smile curling up his lips. 

“I love you too, Yuuri, I have for a long time, I just didn't know it...” Yuuri's cheeks went pink and he hugged Viktor tightly, hands shaking a little as he scrabbled for purchase against Viktor. Viktor returned the hug, breathing in Yuuri's soothing, familiar scent. They hugged like that for a short time, Viktor in Yuuri's lap, just enjoying each others company. Viktor's face was buried in Yuuri's shoulder, the smaller man's hands on his hips. It was the silverette who broke the silence, pulling back with a contented smile on his face. 

“Yuuri... do you want to continue what we were doing before?” He asked softly, nosing at Yuuri's cheek. 

“Are you sure? I-I mean... after all that, do you really want to?” Viktor nodded, pressing another kiss to Yuuri's soft lips. Yuuri blushed and looked down, nodding softly. 

“Only if you want to, of course. Making love with you... it's the best thing I've ever experienced.” That made Yuuri blush even brighter and he helped Viktor onto his back, not one to deny Viktor something when he said it so sweetly. They had both gone soft by now but that was easily remedied as Yuuri laid on top of Viktor and touched them both quickly before rutting their cocks together. Viktor moaned much more freely now, keeping his eyes locked with Yuuri's as the pleasure flooded through him. Before long they were achingly hard and a little too close to the edge, Viktor being quite sensitive to Yuuri's touch at the moment. 

The ravenette sat up, panting with pink cheeks as he slicked up his cock once again and got into position at Viktor's hole, kissing him again as he rubbed against the wrinkled flesh. Viktor kissed back eagerly, taking Yuuri's hand and holding it tightly. 

“Are your ready?” Yuuri asked, pressing shy little kisses to Viktor's face and smiling. Viktor nodded, giggling at the ticklish kisses to his cheeks. It felt light, happy, Viktor was more relaxed with Yuuri than he ever had been. He was more than ready now, desperately wanting Yuuri inside him. 

“Please, Yuuri~” Viktor whined softly, more than enough to get Yuuri going. He pushed his way inside, slowly, achingly slowly until his entire cock was engulfed Viktor's tight heat. Yuuri moaned and stayed as still as possible so Viktor could adjust, one hand going to the silverette's leaking cock and stroking it evenly. Viktor moaned and bucked his hips into Yuuri's hand, so well prepped that he didn't feel even the slightest pain, only great pleasure from both Yuuri's touch and the beautiful full feeling. 

“P-please...” 

“Is it okay? Does it hurt?” 

“Not at all... i-it feels so good, Yuuri, please move... I want to cum.” Yuuri blushed and thrust experimentally, moaning loudly before squeaking and covering his mouth with a hand. Viktor smiled and brushed Yuuri's bangs from his eyes, deep brown and so full of what Viktor now recognized as love. 

“You're adorable, you know that? Don't hide your moans, I want to hear them.” Yuuri glanced down but his hand fell to Viktor's hip, thrusting deep inside him once again and pulling a moan from them both. 

“F-fuck, Viktor, it's so t-tight... your so w-warm inside...”

Yuuri's broken moans bounced off the walls as he formed a rhythm of pushing in and pulling out, slow but very passionate. Viktor was loving it, legs wrapped around Yuuri's waist to keep him close. His mouth gaped, soft cries leaving him with every thrust, his hair plastered to his forehead. Yuuri gazed down at Viktor lovingly, drinking in every sight, every sound, memorizing everything in case he never got the chance to experience it again. One loud scream left Viktor when Yuuri slammed into his prostate, cock twitching with precum spurting from the slit. 

“O-oh god! Yuuri, fuck, k-keep hitting that spot! I'm gonna c-cum!” Viktor cried, back arching off the bed. Yuuri nodded, breathing hard and moaning Viktor's name and a few Japanese curses. He aimed directly for that spot every time, pulling broken little screams from Viktor that mingled with the wet noises of their coupling. 

“M-me too, Vitya, I'm so close...” Yuuri moaned, speeding up and grabbing Viktor's cock to stroke roughly. Something inside Viktor burned hot and heavy, coiled tighter than ever before in his many experiences. One more strong hit to his prostate had Viktor screaming, the coil snapping harshly. His back arched, cock twitching and squirting cum all over his stomach and Yuuri's hand. Yuuri's moans got louder as Viktor's walls clenched down on his cock, squeezing so tightly that it sent him over the edge in a second. He spilled into Viktor, hot and sticky and amazing, the best orgasm he had ever had by a mile. It was blinding for them both, Yuuri at some point pulling out and collapsing beside Viktor, breathing hard against his sweaty skin. 

“O-oh my god... Yuuri...” Viktor turned onto his side, nuzzling Yuuri's chest. 

“T-that was...” 

“I love you.” Viktor looked up to meet Yuuri's eyes, a soft, genuine smile gracing his lips. Yuuri smiled and kissed Viktor with a giggle, smiling madly. 

“I love you too.” He muttered when they broke apart, Viktor wrapping his arms around him needily. 

“Please... please never leave me, Yuuri.” 

“Of course, Viktor, I don't plan on going anywhere for a very long time. I'll always be here for you, no matter what.” Viktor let out a relieved sigh, hugging Yuuri close to him. 

“I feel so safe with you... so right.” Yuuri giggled again, kissing Viktor's hair and running his hands up and down his back. 

“I'm going to help you get past it all, okay? Just like you've helped me be a better skater. I won't lie and say it's going to be easy or fast, but together we can do it. For now, just focus on resting and relaxing, we can catch the train and get home before dinner.” 

“About that... I may have already paid for another night here, I don't have to leave til the morning. Stay here with me? I bet we can get a lot more use out of this bed by then.” Yuuri blushed a little, burying his face in Viktor's hair and lightly scratching his initials onto his skin. 

“I wouldn't leave you for anything, b-but you know you don't always have to bottom, right? You can be inside me if you want to, or if its more comfortable for you.” 

“Oh~? My sweet little Yuuri, taking such good care of me! Want to test that out right now?” 

“V-Viktor!”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you guys thought, comments make me happy and help me improve!


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